


Vive Ut Vivas

by Little_Pumpkin_Bagel



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind Date, Episode: s02e08 One Breath, F/M, Other, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2020-08-14 01:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Pumpkin_Bagel/pseuds/Little_Pumpkin_Bagel
Summary: This is an alternate following to the episode One Breath. After Scully is released from hospital, she takes refugee in Melissa's appartment and they go through the pain of what happened to her. I always thought Melissa deserved better than dying, so this explores her character and her relationship with Scully. She is also the leading factor to Mulder and Scully finally having a decent talk about their feelings, and whatever comes after that (she's a huge msr shipper y'all).





	1. Chapter One

Sometimes people are the last ones to see what’s right in from of them. Either from fear of the truth or from not believing it could quite be true. But these two are a case to be studied. I’d had a lot of men in my life, but God, they were no Fox Mulder.

I saw how he’d acted when Dana was dying, when hope was only a distant memory to him. I felt the darkness that emanated from him, and if my sister was trapped on a place between life and death, I bet this poor man was likely to be the thing holding her there.

_So much to be said to each other_. I know my sister more than her own shadow, and Dana was never the best at exposing her emotions to others, especially when they were deep.

“I knew there was a reason to live.” – She said, joking. It’s so good to see my sister smile, even if it’s still a week one. After all we’ve been through these last couple of days, it helps the tension in the room to dissipate a little.

He says his goodbye and touches her hand briefly, but it’s when their eyes meet that I have to hold my breath. There’s so much there: care, affection, hope. I suddenly feel like I’m intruding. It’s not exactly something private, some intimate demonstration of love, but their eye contact shares more than what’s there to be seen. It makes me feel like an outsider just to be around, like they were the only ones in the room and I just entered the wrong place at the wrong time. What was said between them is something I’ll probably never know, but I’m sure they do.

A minute passes by. I notice how Mulder looks nothing of what he looked before; his smile is warm, genuine now, and even Dana shares one or two when he’s around. That is certainly a meaningful exchange.

As soon as the door closes, her mother’s eyes meet hers. She’s noticed it too. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show. _A mother always knows_ – I can almost hear her say. They will save this conversation for later, though: right now Dana is alive and back from the dead, and that’s all that matters after all.

**…**

When I hear the phone ring, I immediately know it’s her. What surprises me is that my sister accepted my invitation to stay with me for the week, after being released from the hospital. You see, she has always had this terrible habit of closing herself after a moment of vulnerability, even if it was just me there, trying to help. I know it started because of our father, when her rebellious side decided she had something to prove to him, to prove her strong. When you grow up in a house of navy men, you learn to be tough. But I guess I dealt with it the light way and she chose the hard one.

_Maybe that’s changing too_. – I smile to myself. My apartment isn’t exactly as big and cozy as hers, but the two of us have always found comfort in each other’s company. Besides, it will give me just the opportunity I need to have a heart-to-heart conversation with Dana.

**…**

As I expected, she doesn’t let me pick her up at the hospital. I’ll let it pass this time, since I’m more than happy with her presence.

Half an hour has passed by when the doorbell finally rings and I hear the thud of her bags on the other side of the door. I rise from my spot on the couch and go open it for her.

“Mel, I don’t know if you made plans for today, but I can’t stay long. I have to present myself to the FBI as soon as possible so they can evaluate me and decide when I’ll be able to return to work again.” – As if to make her point clear, Dana does that eyebrow thing of hers that really annoys me.

“I know, I know. I’ll not step on your toes, sis, as long as you let me make plans for tomorrow. I missed you. It’s not gonna hurt if you spend some time away from Fox and everything to have some fun with your sister, right? – When the word “Fox” reaches her ears I’m sure she took the bait.

“You know, it’s not like _that_. We’re just partners. If there’s a reason for my eagerness to go back to work it’s just that I want at least a resemblance of my previous, normal life, that’s all.” – _Yeah, right, sweetie._ She truly believes that, poor thing.

“And the fact that he’s extremely attractive and obviously crazy about you does nothing to change that point of yours, Dana?” – Her eyes dart away from me for a second, and she tries her hardest to fight back a smile surging in the corners of her mouth. Even if she was successful at that, I know her way too much not to notice her signs: she likes him. She just probably doesn’t know it yet.

I remember when we still lived with mom, back when I was nineteen and she had just turned seventeen. At the time, she was into this guy named Paul, who was one of her friends. Whenever I mentioned him she would smile like a kid in a Christmas shop. Old Dana may hide her smile better, but it’s all the same.

“He’s not…crazy about me, Melissa. He trusts me, and we’re friends. Considering what happened to me, he’s happy to see me well again, and probably relieved too. He has this bad tendency to think everything is his fault.”

“Dana, I had boyfriends who cared less for me than he does for you. Mom had to drive him out of the hospital and take him to a restaurant to be sure he would even eat.” – she rolls her eyes at my comment, like she usually does when she wants to avoid talking about something.

“Look, I’m not trying to fight here. I just found you two… intriguing.” – I pose the devilish smile I can get. She can’t help but smile after that.

We stop talking about her partner as Dana guides herself through my place, looking around. She takes her time and then comes back to the couch, where I languidly rest while I wait for her little tour to end.

The floor of the apartment was an old-fashioned parquet with a blend of deep homely browns that contrasted with creamy-colored walls, on which lots of photographs were hanged: there were ones of me, Dana, mom and dad, my brothers and the closest of my friends. On top of the fireplace, a delicate painting catches her attention – it was a landscape: the coastline jagged, covered by inlets where the water laid still. In the orange-kissed sky, the last vestiges of daylight contrasted with the growing black of cliffs, jagged and folded, shrinking into the distance. Bursting through the large windows made of glass, she saw shafts of light streaming through the gaps in the linen curtains.

It’s the first time Dana comes to visit me here. It’s been a long time since I stayed in a place for more than one or two months, and after a while, she stopped coming to me and I started going to her place instead. It felt easier for us to spend time together.

When Dana’s finished, she sits next to me on the couch and rests her head on my shoulder. We stay this way for some time, in a quiet, yet comfortable silence. Her hair mingles with mine, leaving a delicious orange sent that probably came from her shampoo.

“Hmm.” – I hear her sigh on my side.

“Dana, can I ask you another thing? And please promise you’ll be honest with me.”

“Fine.” – She complies, defeated. I feel her tiny hand resting on mine, and we interlace our fingers.

“What made you come back? I mean, from the coma?” – I say barely above a whisper, choosing the words carefully.

She takes her time to answer, the thin lines of her forehead contorted in concentration. Finally, she speaks.

“I don’t know. At least, not with certitude.” – I release my breath, and when I’m about to disentangle with her, she holds me where I am. – “The truth is, I’m having a hard time figuring out what was part of my imagination and what was real. The things I’ve heard and seen during my state of coma, it’s all messed up, Mel. When I listened to Mulder’s voice calling me back, I…” – she sighs and holds back whatever she was about to say.

“Dana, please… don’t. Don’t close yourself now. I’m with you, and I believe that, if you decided to come here, at least some part of you wants me to help you heal.” – I take a strand of her beautiful hair and put it behind her ear, making her look at me. – “We’re sisters and I almost lost you. Please just let us be like we used to, we used to tell each other everything.” – When she meets my gaze, her eyes finally give in, and all the emotions she’s sinking down finally subside into quiet tears.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, different from the first one, we'll see the story under Scully's perceptive. It's also a way to better explore her emotions and inner feelings of the situation. Plus, since in season 11 we came to learn more about Skinner's past and how he also had to deal with trauma, I decided to use that background in the conversations between him and Scully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to write more of the story, I've been very busy with college. I hope you all enjoy it, feel free to ask me anything :)

  
**Prologue**

I remember a time when I was only 5 years old. It was an ordinary day of summer, and mom had decided to take her children for a picnic in the park not far away from our house. She had little pots of everything with too much sugar and more packaging than the space-shuttle. Dad had been away on the sea for a long period of time, and even under the naïve perceptions of myself as a kid, it was possible to see how much she missed him. I don’t know if the picnic was an attempt of cheering the mood more for herself or for us. I should’ve been worried, but instead I just gave her my best smile and pulled out the fresh baked baguettes with brie and cranberry.

The air was warm that day, the beams of sunlight glowed on my skin. Melissa liked to sit close to the flowers and inspect them, under the freshly cut green grass. Charlie and Bill would start fighting with each other any time soon; it was sort of their motto. And that was my cue to go get and adventure by myself.

Looking back today, I wonder how could I and Melissa get along so well together. We were opposites in everything: she was the model, girly girl, who loved dresses, flowers, dolls and the piano lessons mom made sure we attended to. I was never that way. I loved dogs, sports and comfortable pants. I would only come inside home when mom called me with that tone of threat, which is the reason to my abundancy of freckles, due to hours and hours under the sun, climbing trees, running and playing around.

I was the tough child, I guess. Mel was the soft, popular one. That hasn’t changed much now that we’re adults. I still don’t go very well with softness; I keep it under tons of labored layers, deep inside.

This was mainly the reason I feared so badly to come here and stay with my sister. She has always had this thing of hers that somehow goes straight into your heart and sees everything. I’m a private, reserved person, and I like keeping my feelings only to myself. But that never really worked with Mel. Let’s say she would be very good at interrogations.

\---

After what felt like an eternity, my tears, which eventually turned into little sobs, finally went away. At some point, Melissa’s tightened her hold on me; there wasn’t much else she could do about the whole situation for now. I ran my fingers through her knuckles, and she released me slowly.

“I guess I’ll be going, Mel.” – I feel terrible for leaving her after such an intimate moment, and especially because I know she’ll have a lot of other questions for me now.

“Work stuff you said, right?” – She sounds discouraged, but not mad, at the very least.

“Yes. Skinner had called me in the morning and he’s expecting me at the Bureau. So… I’d better be on my way.” – I rise from the couch and start to collect my things, stuffing them in my purse. It feels weird, not having my badge with me.

I say goodbye to my sister without turning to look back at her. If I did that, she would find her way into convincing me to stay. Even so, I can still feel her eyes burning on me, absorbing each detail, each movement I do. I close the door quietly and follow my way down the stairs of her building.

\---

FBI headquarters - 3:00 p.m.

There is a feeling: it starts when you enter a place you’ve already been a thousand times before, and yet, when you look around, you feel like it’s not the same, even though nothing’s really changed. You try desperately to find out what is different, but the only thing you find is a bitter taste in the back of your mouth, a feeling of intrusion, as if you were the wrong peace of a puzzle, trying to fit in.

I enter through the front door, the big cement columns threatening to smash my tiny figure as I pass them to go through the metal detector machine.

As the elevator doors open, I feel a sense of relief as I notice it’s empty. I am aware that my abduction has made me quite a popular person in the bureau, as if being part of the X Files division hadn’t already granted me that. Mulder talked with me about how a few people, whose existence he’s never known before, had stopped him at the corridor to ask if Mrs. Spooky had been taken by his fellow aliens, or simply to know what really happened to me.

Being a woman in a field that is predominantly occupied by men has taught me that the standards are never equal when it comes to gender difference. I had to work harder than most of my male colleagues at Quantico to stand out, and now as an agent, I feel more than grateful to be Mulder’s partner, because, unlike the others, he treats me like an equal, recognizing my work as an agent without making me feel less capable due to being a woman, and protecting me when it’s needed without making me feel like I couldn’t handle myself.

The problem in that is that it often makes me forget how mean the rest of the bureau can be. I realize I wasn’t that lucky when the elevator doors open again, now in Skinner’s office floor, and I see a very crowded hall ready to swallow me up.

The loud noise of my high heels coming in contact with the floor fill my ears and I feel my body threatening to throw up all the remnants of the cheap lunch I had back at the hospital. I walk silently, looking straight away and trying my best to avoid the curious eyes that follow me. I hear whispers too, but my ears don’t register any words being said. My mind is way too busy fighting to keep me standing and moving forward. Thank God Skinner’s office is not so far from the elevator itself, and I get there quickly enough.

Arlene’s attention is instantly drawn to the creaking door as I open it, increasing considerably as she recognizes my singular figure entering the precinct. She tries her best to be discreet, though. She even gives me a little smile, embarrassed with the whole situation.

“Agent Scully, you can go inside. Mr. Skinner is already waiting for you.” – with that, she returns to typing in her computer.

Skinner is indeed expecting me as I walk to a chair in his conference table. Different from the others, he doesn’t show any sign of curiosity or pity. I feel immensely thankful for that, so I give him a smile. I’m well aware that the evaluation is merely standard procedure, not to mention that it’s just me and Skinner there, but, still, the knot in my stomach doesn’t subside a bit. I guess after all that’s happened, my mind had gotten a little susceptible to Mulder’s paranoia of breaking The X-Files division, and shutting our careers down along with that. _Let’s not think about that right now, Dana. _I turn the focus of my mind on taking long, deep breaths.

“Agent, Scully, it’s a relief to see you well.” – Skinner is sincere in his words, as he looks straight into my eyes to show me he means it. – “I hope you understand the need of this procedure. You were under a highly stressful situation and that requires a bureau evaluation, to make sure you’re ready to go back to field”.

“Thank you, Sir, I understand. I just want to go back to work as soon as I can.” – _And forget this nightmare_, I think to myself. For a moment, I wish Mulder could be here. His crack jokes and sassy faces would certainly help lighten the mood.

I remember Mulder with that thought, how he was worried with me coming back so soon, how he couldn’t help himself in hiding his desire to have my company back, despite that. My memory traces the lines of our office: the dusty shells of stuff Mulder makes sure to keep there, his table, his geek poster I came to like with time, the silly green alien key chain he bought me last summer, while lecturing me about how aliens are actually grey. It gives my heart some comfort to remember something so familiar to me.

“Good to hear that, agent. So, let’s begin, shall we?”

Thereby, Skinner starts to present me a series of routine questions, then about standard FBI procedure, and, finally, questions with, I suppose, a more psychological approach. Turns out it’s not that bad, after all. I feel relieved.

After I give my last answer, he pauses, closing his eyes for a bit. He uses the tips of his long fingers to massage his temples, and then takes a deep breath.

“If you allow me, Dana, I’d like to talk to you, off the record.”

I realize I won’t escape personal interrogations today, so I give him a week nod.

“Listen… Your test shows no reason to keep you away from work. That said, I’m letting you know you can return to work any time.”

“I see a ‘but’ coming” – I attempt to make a joke, but he doesn’t alter his serious face.

“Well, yes, indeed. As your boss, I’ll tag along with the evaluation, but as your friend, I’d like to advise you to go home, Dana. You’ll continue to be paid normally even if you take some more time off, and you really should do that. Go be with your family, go rest and give your body and soul time to heal. Trust me, I know the feeling. Your strength is increasing and your body seems better, so it feels like you’re ready to go back to action, but these wounds, Dana, they’re bigger than they look. They can threaten to unsettle your spirit in the most inconvenient of times, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if that caused another risk to your life, or to agent Mulder.”

He was probably right; I knew it in my heart. But how could I tell him that taking time was consuming me, that it was making me mourn over and over again all the things I lost during my abduction? I could no longer rest unless I was under the effect of my sleeping pills, or drowsy due to my strong medication, because when their effect passed away, all I could see in my mind was the same nightmare over and over again. I must've let out something, because when I turned my eyes back to Skinner’s, he had a bigger frown on his face.

“Don’t fight me on this, Dana. You’re the bravest agent I know, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need help.” – He waited for a response, so I opened my mouth in an attempt of an answer.

“Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I really need to work.” – I sigh – “I need something to focus my mind on. I’ll be careful, plus, Mulder will be there to help me.” – I try to give him my best sad-puppy face. It seems to work.

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” – Now it’s his turn to sigh. – “But I know you well enough to understand that trying to convince you otherwise won’t make any difference.”

“Thank you for understanding that, Sir.” – As I rise from my seat, he speaks once again.

“Agent, as you’re released to come back to work, I want you to be aware that, due to the circumstances of your case, you’ll have to go through periodic psychological counseling. That is not negotiable, agent Scully, but don’t worry, everything you say during session will remain private, these routine sessions are just to make sure you recover from your experience.”

I nod to him and find my way to the door, but he calls my name when I’m about to leave the room.

“Just one more thing, Dana.” – I turn to him. – “As you return, if you feel like you can’t stand a situation, anytime, my offer stands. Promise me you’ll accept help from the ones closer to you.”

From all the times Mulder and I had to count on Skinner’s assistance, I’ve learned to trust him and to believe in the fact that he really cares for us both, but now, from the way he says this words and the look on his face, I feel like this is more than just concern for me. It feels personal, and I’m inclined to conclude that he’s had his amount of trauma too.

“I promise.” – I tell him and leave, there’s a basement I have to go to.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we see the story under both Mulder and Scully's perceptions. It's basically centered on Scully's interaction with Mulder, as she's released to work again for the FBI, and with Melissa, while they spend some time together and Scully tries to go back to normalcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so far my favorite chapter to write! Let's just say it has a really cute msr moment, not to mention that Melissa is really up to help Scully get some fun :)  
Feel free to tell me anything, hope you guys enjoy!

**Fox**

I check my watch for the millionth time today. It’s been forty minutes. Were these things supposed to last this long? Is she going to come here after it all or is she just going to flee to her sister’s home and leave me here alone?

I check my pencils inside the top drawer of the table. There are two left. The others now decorate the dusty grey ceiling. I turn to my shells at the end of the room, but everything’s cautiously organized in there now. Scully would be so proud. She mocked me for months, after we were assigned, for having such a lack of organization with my stuff.

Call it boredom, but I had to do something, anything, to fill my mind with other than Scully. Since yesterday, when Skinner told me she would be evaluated today, I couldn’t think of much else. I tried to find cases to work on, but they only made me think of crackpot theories I wanted to tell her, so I could see those beautiful blue eyes roll to the top or her head. So I cleaned my stuff, and it helped me get distracted for a while, but then I thought about how I would feel triumphant over her reaction to it, how she would pretend it was nothing but wouldn’t be able to hide her proud smile in the corners of her mouth.

It’s useless, it seems, to try to forget Scully. She’s in every little thing I do or think, and sometimes it drives me nuts. Going to Skinner’s office could be an option, but I don’t want to make her any more famous than she already is right now, after everything that’s happened. People already talk about her abduction, how it was as strange as our job, about how we probably sleep together, and I don’t want to give them more reason to spread these rumors about her. I decide to wait a little more.

After four, as I return from the bathroom, I feel a tiny pair of hands cover my eyes from behind, and even if it wasn’t for the size of her hands, or for the fact that nobody else would do that or even come down here, I’d still be perfectly aware that it was Scully. My body senses her presence like a magnet, like an invisible line that connects us, a telephone signal.

“So, what do I have here, a visitor? Isn’t it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded?” – I say that as I turn to face her, holding her hands with mine.

“Nice to see you too, Mulder.” – She gives me a wry smile, walking towards our office room.

She stops at the door, clearly noticing the place is cleaner than before. Then, she sits on the edge of the desk, legs crossed, slowly thumping her fingers at the table. There’s a triumphant look in her eyes, as she directs them to me.

“What happened here, Mulder? Did you get visited by your cleaning fairy godmother?”

“Well, Scully, as a friend once told me, this place needed some care.” – I tease her with a wink.

“Smart friend you have, Mulder.” – She stares directly into my eyes – “I wonder if she used to kick your crazy ass a lot.”

God help me, because how much I missed sassy Scully. I know she is just joking with me, but the truth is, she did had my back more times than I can count on our partnership, not to mention that she helped me keep our department going with her down-to-earth reports. I may not always agree with her theories, but in all honesty, she keeps me on the right track.

I come closer to the desk and bow my head to whisper in her ear.

“It’s not out of the realm of extreme possibility, Scully.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between us after that. My partner seems immersed in thought but, judging by the way she’s chewing the inside of her cheek, and how she doesn’t dare look into my eyes, I know she’s nervous too. She’s holding back something, and I wonder if it has something to do with her evaluation today. I was so excited by her arrival that it didn’t even cross my mind how maybe they didn’t allow her to go back to work yet.

As a profiler, the prospect of reading people’s behavior surges with quite frequency to me. It’s almost natural, their actions end up being noticed by my mind and then it follows its own path. With Scully, though, I never dared to do that. Despite the fact that I always suspected the reasons she was sent to me in the first place, as to debunk me – and her behavior was fitting quite well in that – it all changed when she entered my motel room in barely a robe that night on our first case.

She had just met me, and yet she allowed herself to be entirely vulnerable with me that night. It was an act of fear, of course, but she decided to trust me, and after that, I decided I was willing to do the same with her. At the time, I made a decision. I was never going to profile Scully. I would listen to what she had to say, and I would limit my watch to the signals she was willingly showing me.

We became incredibly good at that kind of communication, ironically. Sometimes we don’t even need to verbalize what we are thinking before the other gets the message. Sometimes our bodies show more than we could with a speech too.

Therefore, I know better than anyone that pushing Scully to tell me right now what’s wrong won’t do any good. Finding it out myself before her decision to tell me wouldn’t be right, either. It has to be in her time. For now, I just lift her face with my thumb and wait, looking into her eyes, asking for permission to know whatever there is to know.

“I, hum… I just came back from Skinner’s office. He’s approved my return to work any time from now.” – She finally speaks, keeping our eye contact.

“That’s the best thing I heard today so far, Scully. Do you agree with Skinner? I mean, do you feel alright to be back to duty?” – I cup her face with my hand and caress it softly. She trembles a little, but doesn’t stop me.

“I’m fine, Mulder.” – She rests her right hand on top of mine, which’s still cupping her face, and holds it. There’s a strange sense of déjà-vu in the air. Months ago, when her father died, we stood here in a very similar conversation. I suppose she’s thinking the same thing.

“_I need to work”_ – her eyes plead me to understand, and that only makes me feel more worried.

If only I could go back in time and protect Scully from the all the damage I caused her. I never gave much thought about the costs of my pursuit of the truth: I had already lost my sister, my family; there was nothing to lose before. But after Scully, that was not true anymore. They’ve put her in the middle of our crusade because of me, because of what she meant to me.

_What did we become?_

Sometimes that question keeps me awake in the middle of the night. Partners. We are that, for sure, but partners would never be willing to go as far as we would for each other. Friends. Our friendship was built in a solid ground of trust, of mutual care, but is that just as far as it goes? Assuming we’re friends doesn’t seem to cover the deep depths of our relationship either. We’re deeply connected: by heart, by mind, we have a bond that irradiates into our entire lives. I know Scully’s favorite perfume, her favorite type of flower, how she loves the spring and how she was never afraid of the dark. I’ve held her in my arms multiple times, in life and death situations, whenever she needed support. She takes care of me so often; she’s always stood by my side.

That intimacy seems to trespass the territory of friendship in all aspects, except the physical one. That’s a line we never dared to cross, but it doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the sensuality Scully exudes, or how beautiful she is. I keep that effect she has on me inside elaborated mental boxes wrapped up with yellow tape written “do not cross”. Even so, sometimes it’s arduous to keep myself unaffected by it. It’s a dangerous path, to try to define us, and an even more dangerous one, to wonder what I’d wish us to be.

“Mulder, I can hear you thinking.” – She says, bringing me back from my thoughts. – “I’ve already spoken to Skinner, my sister is taking good care of me, and, most importantly, I'm alive. But Mulder, I don’t want to come back to a life where people treat me like I’m broken. I need to feel capable again, to feel strong. I need you to support me on that, _please_.” – The last word comes above a whisper; her eyes watered yet steadfast.

“Scully, are you familiar with the sea anemone and clownfish?” – She’s taken aback by my question, but decides to go along with it.

“Well, as far as my biology classes in school would allow me. Why?”

“Did you know that only select pairs of anemone and clownfish are compatible to each other? At first, the possibility of a fit between the two of them, not to mention a beneficial one, would be highly improbable. The anemone is protective, using nematocyst strikes to scare every kind of threat. It was up to the clownfish to adjust to that, in an act of not trying to eat her tentacles, like most fish do. In return, the anemone has evolved to not strike the clownfish. You see, they both had to move further from their natural behavior in order to create their relationship, and despite the risks, they work better together than alone.”

“Mulder, are you saying you and I are like fish?” – She muses with a smile.

“We don’t live in the bottom of the ocean, Scully, but that doesn’t mean we can’t relate to that somehow.” – She laughs a little, making me feel better for lighting up the mood.

“We also need to adjust sometimes, Scully, to make ‘us’ work. If you want me to adjust, I will. I just want you to be willing to do the same for me. You scared me to death, you know, I thought I’d lose you.”

“You’ll still have to put up with me for a long time, Mulder.” – She smiles. – “I’ll be your anemone, Fox Mulder.”

“Then I’ll be your clownfish, Dana Scully.”

\---

**Dana**

The sun was lowering slowly in the sky, leaving threads of light lingered in it, mingling with the rolling clouds in a beautiful gradient of colors that stood upon its original blue, now mixed with orange, purple and yellow. Absorbed in this welcoming view, my thoughts drift away by their own will, far from everything.

I feel the soothing breeze that flows in the park, which is still crowded with kids in school uniforms that play nearby. Some other people pass through the bench I’m seated in, some jogging, others riding their bikes. It feels peaceful, to be around this kind of normalcy once again.

“Lost in thought, sis? – Melissa taps my shoulder before sitting next to me. She’s smoking one of her herbs.

“You know I’m a federal agent, right?”

“Sister’s don’t put each other in jail, Danes.” – she turns to me with a teasing smile. – “Want some?”

“Maybe I could use some of that.” – I give her a small laugh, but it ends up sounding more like a sigh.

“Oh, having problems with the man candy? You know, I could really help you with that if you’d let me, Dana.”

“Enough with this idea, Melissa. I’ve already told you, Mulder and I are just partners and friends if you want to know.” – I give her a serious look, and it only makes her smile more broadly.

“Are you saying he doesn’t make you weak to the knees, sis? You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s hot. That would make me consider taking you back to the hospital, because there would be definitely something wrong with your head.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not blind, Melissa. Mulder is handsome and very sensual at times, but it would be highly inappropriate to get myself involved with him, even if I wanted to.”

“You should try to have fun sometimes, you know? You’re too boring.” – She laughs and takes my hand, standing up.

“What are you doing?” – She pulls me out of the bench, walking towards the avenue and out of the park.

“It’s time for us to go do some mundane, silly stuff, Miss Federal Agent.”

Two hours later and I see myself being guided through the glowing streets of a crowded Friday night. I have no idea where Melissa is going to take me. It reminds me of our early days in San Diego: she could always find the best places for us to hang out, even when dad was on our back. That was something I used to love about her, the fact that she would always include me in her plans, either if it was a party she was invited to, or just a ride to the beach or the mall. She would never leave me behind.

Street lamps flicker on our way. There’s no wind, but is not too warm; the fresh air is perfect and the stars are a beautiful sight I’m not used to pay attention to. It’s funny how my mind seems to be noticing these things more nowadays: the stars, the quiet laughter from the couple on the other side of the street, the smell of candy coming from somewhere near. It’s interesting how things in the universe can be perfectly standing while your life has just come from its way upside down.

Melissa makes a turn four blocks away from her place, and she seems to find the pub she’s been looking for. From the outside, it looks pleasantly rustic. Its construction rises through time-worn bricks, and it's difficult to see through the windows, but the cheerful sounds from within can be felt outside. She rests her hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and push.

The ambient is crowded, but comfortable enough. Aside from a set of tables and a large booth on the back of the pub, the space is composed by a long mahogany bar and a number of tall bar stools arranged to accommodate any drinker who didn’t want to be seated at one of the tables. The ceiling height is pleasantly commodious, and I notice stairs leading to somewhere worth further explorations later.

“Well, sis, I must admit that you still have your touch for picking up these things.”

“Not so bad to stay with your sister, uh?” – Melissa takes the free reminiscent table for us, and makes a sign for the waiter. – “Plus, you really needed some fun in your life, Dana. Let’s forget men and worries for a little while.”

The waiter approaches us with a charming look in his eyes. He seems nonchalant about it, though; as if it was something automatic that he’s quite used to do. His bronzed skin and green eyes only add to the view.

“What can I do for the ladies tonight?” – He asks us with a foreign accent.

“Well, my sister here has just come back to life, so to speak, so what do you suggest?” – Melissa winks at me.

“Well, Ma'am, it should be something with a strong taste, yet soft, remarkable; something that reminds you how life is worth living, don’t you think?” – The answer is directed to my sister, but despite that, his eyes direct to mine as he speaks.

“I totally agree.”

“How about you? A lady with such fierce eyes must have an opinion of her own.” – At this point, both the waiter and my sister look at me expectantly, waiting for a response.

“For now, I’ll just have a cold beer, please.” – The waiter nods at me and turns to Melissa, waiting for her turn to order.

“Bring me some tequila, would you?”

“Sure. And my name is Adam, by the way. Just call me if you need anything.” - As he storms out to get our drinks, she turns to me.

“So much for having fun, Dana. You should be the big sister, you know.” – Melissa points a disappointed look at my direction.

“I’m not looking so forward to having a massive headache in the morning, Missy. Plus, someone will have to be sober enough to take care of the both of us.” – She laughs at that.

“You should really live the moment more, instead of worrying that much about the future, sis. After what happened to you, I thought you’d get better at that.”

I remember the hospital nights and the complete sense of soreness I felt on my body for a moment. It makes me tremble a little, and Melissa notices it instantly. There’s no breeze of air coming at our direction, so I’m pretty sure she guessed it was no weather that caused that.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you feel bad, Dana.” – She reaches her hand out and places it on top of mine.

“I’m fine, Missy. Can we just… not bring that up just yet? It’s too soon, please.”

“Sure. Let’s talk about something else.”

We talk for several minutes and the conversation becomes lighter. We talk mostly about my sister’s recent life: how he’s just broken up with a boyfriend I never got to meet, how she’s been really enjoying her new job, how mom still thinks she should go back to church. I realize there’s a lot about her that I’ve lost, not exactly just because of my disappearing, but because, with the busy routine I was living before that, I ended up not being very present in her life.

I wonder if Missy noticed that through the years. She’s done so much for me in the past months, in the hospital, and now opening space in her daily life to take care of me… I was so worried about the FBI, about my own personal issues that I didn’t stop to think maybe Melissa only wanted something I’ve been neglecting her in a long time: to be with me.

Maybe she was right about living the moment, after all. All I’ve done was to worry about myself, while she was just trying to enjoy spending time with her sister. Maybe it’s time for me to give her what she wants.

“You know what, Missy, I think maybe you were right.”

“Wow, the alcohol must be working well, because I can’t believe you just said that.” – She mocks me, contented. – “About what, specifically?”

“Well, about me not living my best life lately. I see how much yours changed, and I wasn’t even there to be part of it. I’m sorry, I haven’t been exactly the dream family lately, have I?” – I give her a sorry look and a sad smile.

“Well, you’ve been distant. I wondered why for quite some time. We used to talk about everything, even when we were apart. I guess changing is part of life but… can we come back to that? I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too. I was so involved with my career, with… things I can’t explain to you. I suppose I tend to close myself off to the people I love.” – She returns my smile, staring at me.

“That you definitely do. I’ll tell you this: I don’t care how you live your life, as long as you are happy. And as long as you trust me to be part of it. Deal?”

“Deal.” – I say, squeezing her hand.

At this point, our glasses are barely empty. I scan the pub until my eyes find what I was searching for.

“Adam!” - I shout for the waiter, who’s carrying an empty bottle that was left on the bar.

He notices me from the crowd and approaches our table pleased.

“Here I am. Would you like some more beer?”

“In fact, I think it’s time for that drink you suggested me. Bring me your best, and fill a glass for my sister here too.” – I give him a teasing wink that only improves his delight. – “It’s Dana, by the way.”


End file.
